


Baby It's Cold Inside

by hellotweetygirl



Category: SHINee
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grandparents, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Fic Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellotweetygirl/pseuds/hellotweetygirl
Summary: Kibum is cold. Cold in a way that goes into his very bones and seeps into his soul. He's suffering a deep loss and tonight he wants to let go and feel it all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay so I process stuff by writing and this for me was just begging to be written. As I myself have lost a beloved grandmother I tried to represent honestly what one goes through when grieving. Please be kind.

Kibum is cold. Cold in a way that goes into his very bones and seeps into his soul. His feet are firmly planted in a mushy snow bank so it’s no wonder, and his toes will fall off he’s sure, and his manager will scold undoubtedly for him taking off in the middle of the night- but he really doesn’t care right now, he’s got better things to do. 

Yes, this is better. 

It’s better that he’s alone right now sitting the seclusion of the darkness. This was a good place to come he decides, he and halmoni had been here the last time she came to visit. He and the dogs and her just sitting in this spot overlooking a lovely scenic view and feeding the pigeons and the dogs romping around and his halmoni chuckling and scolding both him and the animals for their playful antics.  
The memory makes him tremble and he can feel the strings of his heart loosen. 

Tonight he finally can be at peace. It’s better that he breaks down in the soundless cold of the night. No one can hear him here, no one can judge or pity or offer comfort. He doesn’t want any of it. Better that he’s away from the others and away from his family- this is private and he’s needed the mental space to do this for so long now. His emotions may seep out of his fingertips and bleed boldly colored oranges and blues and reds onto the pages of his coloring book but the hurt remained. The hurt dug deep. The hurt wound its way around his heart and was choking him to death. It’s icy fingers cutting off the processing of the pain and the warmth of love and the great fullness of being alive letting him only breathe in short gasps and stagger into the next day. Such was the curse of a full schedule. Tonight he wanted that all to change. No one required anything of him and he was going to take what he needed for himself. He’s was desperate to feel fully, to breathe fully. Desperate for his heart not to be numb. Desperate to let it all go. 

He cants his head against the back of the bench, slouching and cramming his fingers as deep inside the insufficient pockets of his coat as they would go. His eyes slip shut and he cuts the cords of hurt wound round his heart. He welcomes the wash of memories spilling over him and through him and out of him. Because now, now that he has done this, now that he allows himself to remember, and be in pain, and to grieve the tears flood out of him too. Their path is wild and unhindered across his face and leaves his cheeks stinging from where the frigid air bites against the moisture. 

He couldn’t believe she was gone. It was lonely without her. He knew he didn’t get to see her as frequently as he would have liked but at least they talked, at least they sent packages and letters, at least she was somewhere in this world along side him. His tears feel like a deluge now, one he can’t possibly stop and the grief from her absence weighs heavy on him as the sobs wrack his body. 

He loved his halmoni so much, so incredibly much. He was his strength and his protector. She was his encourager and his cheerleader. She was his conscience and his guide. She devoted herself to him and in turn, when he grew older and wiser and began to understand her, he devoted himself to her as well. What was he going to do without her? The question plagues his mind and clenches his heart tightly. 

The hard metal bench he sits on steals his heat and his limbs are tingling with the bitter pain of it. _Hell, he’s going to be so stiff tomorrow at practice!_ The thought, random and unbidden, flashes in his mind and he chokes out a laugh, squeezing his eyes tightly. _‘As if it matters’_ he thinks wistfully, crossing his arms and holding himself together. 

Suddenly, he starts up and skitters away from the presence that has just settled itself next to him. Swiping at bleary eyes forcing them into focus after so long squeezed shut he breathes out a name.  
“Minho!"  
The figure next to him is staring intently at him, hands in the deep pockets of his heavy pea coat and for the life of him he can’t imagine how he just materialized out of thin air, he didn’t hear a sound. He tries a few squawks that are intended to be words and end up with him open-mouthed and gaping. He’s confused as hell but all that vanishes as his mind snaps back to what he’s actually doing out here in the first place and he can’t help the tremble in his lip or the tears that return full force. 

Minho’s hand is proffered and his gentle voice rumbles out a request to _"Stop being an idiot and come here.”_ Kibum blinks his sore and watery eyes at him for only a moment before he’s cautiously sliding back to his former position but he ignores the dangling hand being held out to him. His head settles back on the cold metal once more and he sighs. 

“I don’t understand why you’re here. How are you here? Why are you here?” he asks tiredly. 

“You needed me, I’m here,” he explained, withdrawing his hand slowly. “And when you’re ready I’m taking you home and putting you to bed where you belong.” He looked pointedly at his companion, tone admonishing. 

“Shut up, I’m a grown man and I’ll do whatever the hell I like!” Kibum snuffled, rubbing his nose grossly on his sleeve. He wanted the words to have bite and put Minho off of his obvious little rescue mission so he could be left to wallow alone but the words only came out stale, like yesterday’s crackers that have all the appearance of the genuine article but none of the intended flavor. Minho glowers at him, displeasure evident. Kibum could see his determination and knew this was a contest he would not win with the younger boy so sighing exhaustedly he gave in. 

“I’m cold,” he said in a small voice, hiccuping through the still flowing tears. 

“Then let’s go!” Minho cut in, immediately rising from his seat. 

“No! Not yet!” Kibum wailed. He pulled his knees up, heels teetering on the edge of the bench and wrapped an arm around for support. Quickly reaching for the impatient boy with his other, gloveless, hand, he latched on to his wrist and drug him down next to him with the force of a sinking anchor. This time he kept blessedly still, albeit tense and uncertain, as Kibum tried to compose himself and explain. After a few minutes Kibum rotated his awkwardly stiff limbs and turned his huddled self on the bench so he was facing his concerned friend. He spoke softly, “You don’t understand. You won’t understand." 

"That’s not fair Kibum, you haven’t even tried telling me what exactly is going on!” the younger boy murmured at him, taking his hands and beginning to run circles and patterns into the frozen digits gradually warming them. 

“I’m so cold _inside_ ” he whispered urgently, afraid the night would swiftly steal away his words. “Nothing’s the same since she died. I feel so alone and my heart is so cold! I…I just…I want to see her again. I missed seeing her when- before-” he paused, searching for a calming breath before continuing miserably. “I want to tell her all the things I’m doing and have her take care of me.” He hiccuped through the tears. “And I want her to scold me. And…and I want her to be there for the important moments in my life. Now she can’t. Now she won’t. Now I’m all alone. And the feeling is terrible and I hate it…and it makes me feel so cold and so tired!” He wailed, his tirade having risen in volume the more emotional and worked up he got. 

He looked up at the tall boy and saw tears pooling in his eyes now too. His compassion was touching and it tugged at Kibum’s heart. He pulled his hands away from Minho’s grip and ran them through his hair tilting his head back and willing the tears to stop, to roll back into his head and stop flowing. “Urghhhh!” He groaned with a choked sob. “I hate this! I hate feeling this way and I hate being a burden to people and…” he choked again looking back at his companion. "And stop looking at me like that Choi Minho! Stop looking at me like I’m going to break to pieces and…and…so help me I’ll…“ he broke off his rant as Minho grabbed his wrists and yanked him across the bench manhandling him into a hug. 

"Shut up will you?” Minho demanded, practically suffocating him as he smushed his face into his side and wrapped long and comforting arms around him. He clung to Minho in those still and quiet moments glad that there was no one to interrupt this misbegotten breakdown of his. They sat like that for a long time while Kibum’s tears finally stopped and his breathing returning to normal. 

“Are you ready to listen now?” Minho inquired, giving him a gentle squeeze. Minho picked up the hand that was draped across his middle and carefully intertwined his gloved fingers with it. Kibum nodded slowly. He reluctantly pulled away to look him in the face but didn’t break the firm grip that tied them together. 

“You are grieving Bummie,” he began simply, “Do not hate yourself for grieving. Do not hold your self above everyone who’s ever grieved and act like you aren’t supposed to feel pain because of your loss. You are right, I don’t understand everything you are going through because I haven’t been there yet, but I want you to know how very sorry I am that you lost someone you loved. I’m so very sorry that you are hurting. I’m so very sorry that you have been feeling this coldness inside- and I’m so very sorry that you didn’t come to confide in me.” Kibum bit his lip harshly, willing himself not to begin the crying all over again. Minho continued ever gently. “You are not a burden, not to me and not to the others. We are a family and we _want_ to take care of you!” he paused. “You _are_ a grown man and maybe you can do as you please but know that no one _expects_ you to get over this in an instant. Grieve. Do what you have to in order to feel yourself again. But don’t cut yourself off and give your heart more reason to hurt because you think that stopping it pumping will stop the hurting.”

Kibum smothered a sob with his fist over his mouth and sucked in gasps of air as the tears again welled in his eyes. Minho gripped his right hand tighter and turned to face him more, settling close within the circle of Kibum’s personal space. He raised his free hand to palm his cheek and his thumb gently rubbed away the tears that gathered there. “Bummie, I don’t think you are going to break. I know how strong you are. But it will break _me_ if you keep shutting me out and don’t let me help you okay? Please, let me be there for you.”

Kibum pulled himself up straight and took a shaky deep breath disentangling himself from Minho. He scrubbed his face of tears and breathed out slowly, puffing out his cheeks and steadying himself with hands on his folded up knees. He knew Minho, and he knew he could trust his sincerity in whatever he set his mind to do. He looked straight and unshrinkingly into Minho’s eyes and spoke quietly but firmly.“I’ve been miserable these last few weeks Min,” he confessed, “I don’t want to be cold again, I don’t want to be miserable, this all just hurts too much to keep doing so…yes. Yes. ….Together?” he timidly asked. Minho nodded back at him with equal solemnity.

“Bummie, I will never allow that. Never, as long as you will let me stay by you I _will_ stay, and we will get you through this, together. No more coldness only warmth.” Minho vowed. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

They both sat there staring at each other for a minute taking in all that had passed between them. 

“So….can I take you home and put you to bed now?” Minho asked cheekily. 

“Yah! Choi Minho! Stop trying to get me into bed!” He squeaked mirthfully, voice horse and torn from all the crying. His eyes twinkled though, and his heart fluttered at the playful teasing. Minho’s lips twitched and despite him being the one who had started the joke he blushed right up to the tips of his ears in embarrassment from Kibum’s reaction. He looked away quickly and muttered something disparaging under his breath about _'someone obviously feeling better’_ but Kibum caught it anyway and punched his shoulder. 

“Yah! You’re the one who came looking for me stupid! I was just fine on my own!” Kibum lied, sniffling into his sleeve. He can’t help the smile that breaks out onto his face as he looks at the pabo in front of him acting like he’s been mortally wounded from his glancing blow. 

“Stopppp!” Kibum halfheartedly swats at him and chokes on the giggle that involuntarily escapes him, embarrassment seeping through him now. 

_What a pair they make_ , Kibum thinks. They exchange wry smiles with each other and gradually clamber off the bench stretching cold, stiff limbs before they begin walking down the pathway leading out of the park. 

“Minho?” Kibum queries a few feet down the path. 

“Yah?”

“I’m cold." 

Minho stares at him incredulous. Shaking his head he steps forward stripping off his own right glove and shoving it on to Kibum’s right hand. Silently he plucks up the still freezing left hand encasing it in his now gloveless right hand and unceremoniously plunges the pair into the depths of his coat pocket and tugs Kibum along as he resumes his brisk pace. 

"Come on,” he urges, “before we both die of the cold!”

Relief floods through him. His steps quicken to match Minho’s and together they walk along into the night. He knows now he was wrong to cut off the beating of his heart just to try to breathe. He knows that the path towards healing from his grief will be a slow one. But, he reasons, that’s ok because he knows that Minho is going to walk it with him- and if that is true than what dragons can’t he slay in this life? He takes a full deep breath for the first time in forever and he smiles at the future of possibilities. 

_Yes, this is a good spot for memories_ he thinks, throwing a backward glance at the spot he sat in moments ago. His smile breaks into a full blown grin then and in that moment he knows that even though he’s going to learn how to let go of the past he’s never going to let go of this boy, and that is something his halmoni would chuckle and smile at.


End file.
